Pride and Privilege
by tea.and.madeleines
Summary: A story for everyone who thought Andie shouldn't have ended up with Bland - sorry, Blane - and that a relationship with Steff, who has more appeal than every other boy in the movie combined, would have been far more interesting. Takes place shortly after the events of the movie.
1. Chapter 1

She was beautiful, of course. He had an eye for beauty, which made sense. Steff had been surrounded by the finest things all his life. Consequently, he knew how to recognize them.

But her clothes, goddamn. A poor imitation of that New Romantics bullshit. Yet that was part of her appeal, in a way, because she _needed_ him. She needed someone who could polish her. She was a diamond in the rough. If she were his, he'd take her into the city for a full day and leave with a whole new wardrobe. Pleated skirts and clingy turtlenecks in every color of the rainbow. Silk blouses. Benetton sweaters. A shorts suit. A gold cuff. Lingerie, definitely - a sheer white babydoll.

Steff's imagination was spiraling quickly into dangerous territory and had latched onto the image of Andie in the babydoll, through which he could see nipples the same color as her full, pouting coral lips.

"Mr. McKee." The sound of authority broke through his rosy reverie. He was sitting in the back row of math class. Mr. Kershaw was glaring at him from the front. "Though it is the last day of the school year, the last day of your high school career, and the last class of the day, I don't think it's outrageous to expect participation in mandatory class discussion." Steff leaned languidly forward on the desk, partially to further annoy Kershaw (bad posture among students was his particular pet peeve), and partially to conceal what was going on in his pants as a result of the daydream. "Yes, well, if you could just repeat the question, _sir_," he drawled. Kershaw's glare intensified. "We were going around the room sharing summer plans, plans for next year, and goals for the future."

"Bermuda...Yale...CEO and president of McKee Enterprises," Steff deadpanned while pulling a cigarette from his pocket and sticking it between his teeth, signifying the end of the discussion. He tuned out once more as other students chimed in with their petty summer camping trips and no-name colleges . He had more important things on his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Andie pushed her way out the front door of the high school and breathed in pure freedom. She wore a pair of blousy, highwaisted peach shorts and a dark, short-sleeved button up, finished off with her signature pearls and a single dangling earring. Predictably, the outfit was a result of her creative talents: the shorts were made from an old pair of pants, and the shirt from curtains.

She descended the stone steps, her white oxfords clicking, unable to repress happiness as she left the school for the last time. Then she stopped. Parked directly behind her car was a very shiny, very familiar red Porsche preventing her from pulling out. Her mind raced. She could back into it anyway, smashing into the car's side - sweet revenge. But she couldn't afford repairs, and her own car's trunk would inevitably be crushed. Cursing under her breath, she walked slowly over to the offending vehicle and knocked hard on the driver's side door. The tinted window slid away, leaving her face-to-face with a pair of dark aviators, which Steff took off as he looked her up and down.

"I'd say I was sorry to hear things didn't work out between you and Blane, but I'd be lying." He rested the tip of his tongue between his teeth, a smirk playing around his lips.

"I'd say I wish you would jump off a bridge, but - oh, wait, I'd be telling the truth."

Steff's face fell, just for an instant, before he recovered himself. "I do enjoy your _sparkling _wit, Andie, but let's be serious for a second here. When are we going to do something, just you and I? I've been trying to get you to go out with me for 4 years. _Blane _lays eyes on you and a week later you're sticking your tongue down his throat. Now, how exactly does that figure?"

"Maybe because Blan_e_ isn't an _asshole_. See the logic?"

"Mmmm. Well, keep telling yourself that. You think the only reason you two broke up a week after prom was because he'll be at college prep this summer? That he wasn't ready for long distance? Let's just put it this way: I wouldn't ditch you after I finally got some. But I'm the asshole?"

And at that, Andie snapped. "SHUT UP! Would you just _shut up_?"

"I said it would be more than just sex, Andie. And I meant it."

She scoffed. "_Right_. What about Benny, Steff? What about her?"

"Dumped after prom. You really are out of the social loop, you know that? I mean, if you want me to level with you...yeah, she's still been on the back burner, but she'd be gone like _that -_" Steff snapped his fingers " - if you were in the picture."

Andie smiled coldly and rolled her eyes. "No, Steff. I meant the way you treated her. Don't remember? Here's a hint: it was like shit. Why should I expect anything different?"

Steff paused. "Some of it was for your benefit, you know. In the bedroom at the party, when she was baiting you? Did you realize that?"

"But not all of it. Right, Steff? Does treating girls like trash make you feel like a big man? Well, sorry, but I'd prefer to not be verbally abused. Thanks for the offer."

There was silence between them for a moment, filled only by the ebullient voices and shouts of other kids filtering through the parking lot. When Steff spoke again, it was in low tones, though his face revealed nothing.

"Andie." Had his voice just cracked as he said her name? "Get in the car."

Her eyes slitted; her lip turned up. "Are you high? Why the _hell_ would I do that?"

"You take the keys. Sit in the driver's seat. You can move the car while I talk."

"But - "

Steff was staring at her, his eyes as flat and bored as ever. Without breaking eye contact, he fished into his jacket pocket and extended his arm toward her, Porsche keys in hand. After a moment's pause, she took them. Steff opened the door and stepped out, then held the door open for Andie and gestured like a footman. She climbed inside and sat, staring at her knees. Steff circled the car and, in a moment, was in the passenger seat.

"_Well. _Now that we finally have some privacy." His voice had regained all of its former cockiness. Andie scowled and remained soundless.

"You don't know this, Andie, but I think you should. Blane - goddamn, this is hard to say...well, he pegged me at the prom. About you." Steff switched into a slightly stupid sounding, yet otherwise accurate, imitation of Blane's voice: "'You buy everything; you couldn't buy her.' 'She thinks you're shit, and deep down you know she's right.'" Steff paused, pressing his lips together. "There you go."

Andie ran her tongue along her teeth, saying nothing, facing straight ahead, and not looking at the boy whose eyes were fixed on her. She stuck the keys in the ignition and revved the engine.

"Oh, and, uh, my psychiatrist says I project my _rampant _self-loathing onto other people. Well, she didn't actually tell me...I read her notes while she was out of the room. So. If that makes you feel any better..." His tone of voice was sarcastic, but the words didn't feel like a joke. Something in his words struck Andie as sort of, well...sad. She let the car glide forward, freeing up her beloved pink junker.

"Damn. You're a natural, Andie. I'd let you drive this all the time, if you wanted." She put the car in park, finally looking up at Steff, who was still staring her down. Her thoughts were running at a million miles an hour; she always thought she knew his game. Now, she wondered how much she had been wrong about. And yet...if she said yes, even to one date, she was playing with fire. What would Iona tell her? That she needed to gain the upper hand. Manipulate the manipulator.

With her face unreadable, she slid a hand over the linen on his thigh. She watched his mouth part helplessly with lust; his eyes had dropped from her face to her hand. She moved it farther still, to the inside of his upper thigh, and squeezed her fingertips into his leg.

"Great. Pick me up tomorrow at 8 from the record store. And I'll drive." Without missing a beat, Andie removed her hand, opened the door, and sauntered to her own car without looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

It was hard to say exactly why she agreed to a date. A combination of curiosity, confusion, frustration, and...attraction? As much as she hated to admit it, Steff was a babe of the highest degree. His straight nose, his haughty eyes, his sculpted lips, his boyish chin...there was no denying it. But that hadn't stopped her from denying him before. No, there were other factors this time - the failed relationship with Blane being one of them. The spark had faded so fast. And though he had technically been the one to initiate the final break up, it was fairly mutual. There wasn't a whole lot to fill the gaps between kissing; conversation didn't flow easily between them.

She was in the house's only bathroom, doing her makeup in the clouded mirror; her dad shouted to her from the kitchen.

"Andie? You going out tonight?"

"Yeah, I'm just going to Trax for a little, and someone's meeting me there, so I'll probably be out late. Just go to bed whenever you're ready, don't wait up, and leave the door unlocked for me, 'kay?"

"Honey, I thought you were putting the boyfriend thing on hold for awhile!"

She shook her head vehemently. "NO. No, daddy. This isn't a boyfriend thing, it's just...I'm just kind of obligated to do this. End of year get-togethers, you know." She shrugged and half smiled through the lie.

...

It was 7:30 when Andie pulled up at Trax. Steff was already standing under the overhang by the front door, his fair hair like a halo in the night, playing with his lighter. His eyes flickered upwards at her. Damn. She thought she would have had time to slip in through the back door, unwind with a good record and a shot or two of the sake that Iona kept in the supply room, and maybe give Duckie a call. Instead, she had to steel herself quickly as she walked toward the entrance.

"Funny, I wouldn't have guessed you'd be the early type."

He smirked. "I don't need to be fashionably late, Andie. I'm punctual when I want to be somewhere, and I'm not when I don't."

Andie stared him down for a few seconds before dropping her gaze. "So. What do you have planned for the night? Private plane? Or taking me to a back alley?"

"Dinner, actually. You look stunning, by the way."

"Oh..." She was wearing a knee-length brown tartan skirt, an old pair of her mom's tall leather boots that were actually pretty nice despite her aversion to wearing them, and a lacy white top made from a pillow sham.

"But you'll look better if you put this on." He tossed her a roll of fabric, which unfurled in her hands. A pale pink, monogrammed, men's sweater. Steff's sweater.

Her reaction was instantaneous. "Go fuck yourself."

Steff moistened his lips. "Here's the thing, Andie - you don't _have _to wear it. I certainly can't make you. But I want you to be comfortable and I want you to have a good time, and I think a little costume change is key in order for that to happen where we're going. Just a little foresight I had; I thought I'd bring it so you had the option."

Andie seemed to be visibly struggling with a response before she finally got words out: "I'll decide when we get there."


End file.
